


Room Service

by Vhett



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Consensual Blood Drinking, Declarations Of Love, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Men Talking About Their Feelings, Spooning, adrenaline comedown, post-theater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhett/pseuds/Vhett
Summary: After the massacre at the theater, it isn't safe to go back to the house. Nandor and Guillermo get a room.
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 354





	Room Service

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to shocked_into_shame for the beta. Thanks to the Nandermo discord for cheerleading and inspiration.

The adrenaline come-down hits him hard once his vampires are safely in the van. Guillermo discovers his hands are shaking once he tries to put the key in the ignition and fails, three times. He sits back with a sigh.

"Colin, can you drive?" 

Colin opens his mouth and then quickly shuts it after noticing Guillermo's trembling. "Yup."

Guillermo trades seats with Colin, heaving himself into the passenger seat and buckling himself in with some difficulty.

"We can't go back to the house tonight," Guillermo declares, bracing himself for the chorus of complaints that would be sure to follow such a pronouncement. The vampires are silent. "It's not safe. We'll get a hotel." Guillermo realizes every credit card he has on his person belonged to a victim and should not be used for a hotel room unless they want the NYPD breathing down their necks. "Colin, do you have a credit card we can use?"

Colin glances at him out of the corner of his eye as he starts the car and pulls out of the parking garage. "Sure thing, buddy."

\-------------------------------------------------------

They find a nice place. Colin checks them in while they all sit in the van in the hotel's underground parking garage, silent. It takes a while.

Laszlo breaks the silence from the backseat where he's crammed between Nadja and Nandor. "Well that was a real shitshow."

Guillermo sighs. "So you guys just forgot the vampiric counsel was after you, or..."

"Well they never sent anyone after us, so we figured they'd gotten over it." Laszlo shrugs.

"Yeah." Guillermo is exhausted, feels sick to his stomach. "I've been killing assassins they sent and burying them in the yard for months."

Minutes pass in silence after that. Nadja is holding Laszlo's hand between both of her own. Nandor stares out the window.

Guillermo is dozing lightly when Nandor speaks up. "Thank you, Guillermo. For saving us."

"Yes, thank you, Guillermo!" Nadja perks up.

Laszlo joins in. "You really did us a solid back there. Really good work."

Guillermo tries to meet Nandor's eyes in the rear view mirror but of course, the back seat looks empty. "You're welcome."

\----------------------------------------

Colin books them two rooms, with two beds in each. Nadja and Laszlo accept Colin's company with a shared glance between them but don't say anything.

The moment Guillermo is in the room, he throws his bloody trench coat and his duffle bag into the bathtub, then strips the bedding off the bed closest to the door. He gestures toward the window with it but he's much too short to reach. Nandor nods and lifts him easily, holding him around the waist so he can tuck the blanket around the curtains, blocking out any sunlight that might try to creep in when the sun rises in a few hours. When Nandor sets him down, his grip on his hips lingers for a moment and Nandor looks like he wants to say something. But he doesn't, and he lets Guillermo go.

Guillermo is beyond exhausted, completely at the end of his rope, but the idea of crawling into bed covered in blood and sweat is disgusting. "I'm going to take a shower," he tells Nandor, then steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He feels like he can't get his soiled clothes off fast enough, and once he has, he sags over the sink, staring into his own eyes in the mirror and breathing hard. 

_This is who I am now,_ he thinks. He sets his glasses on the sink.

Cold water is better for removing blood stains than hot water is, so he turns the shower on and lets the cold spray fall on his trench and tools for awhile, until the red tint of the water going down the drain fades to clear. He cranks the water as hot as he can tolerate and then climbs in and stands under the spray for a long, long time. Part of him expects Nandor to interrupt, to check on him, but he doesn't. The warmth feels incredible, soothing his shaking nerves and clearing his mind.

Eventually he feels waterlogged and gets out, toweling off and putting his boxerbriefs and glasses back on. He reaches for his trousers but they're bloody at the hem and thighs, places the trench didn't cover. His sweater and shirt smell like death. He looks at his sweat-stained undershirt and sighs, resigned to put it on for modesty's sake, when he notices the plush white robe hanging on the back of the door. He puts the robe on and knots the belt securely.

When he enters the bedroom, Nandor has stripped down to his frilly-sleeved shirt and his best doeskin trousers, and is sitting on the bed cursing and hissing as he struggles to get his tall boots off. He stops when he notices Guillermo, straightens up and tries to pretend he wasn't just wrestling with his own shoes. Guillermo gives him a very small smile. 

"I can help you with that, masssssssss............. uh, Nandor."

Nandor haughtily turns his head away. "No thank you, Guillermo. I don't need your help, I can do it on my own." 

Guillermo ignores him, comes over to the bed and kneels at his feet, smoothly pulling off the stuck boot, and then holding out his hands for Nandor to give him his other leg. Nandor does, and Guillermo pulls off that boot as well, then gets up and sets them by the door. When he turns back toward the room, Nandor has his own face hidden in his massive hands and his shoulders are shaking.

Guillermo's stomach drops. He doesn't know what to do, so he sits next to Nandor and rubs his back in what he hopes is a soothing fashion. "Talk to me," he says, gently.

Nandor pulls his hands away from his face to reveal huge watery eyes, tear trails running down his face and into his beard. He throws his hands up and Guillermo notices for the first time the burns on his wrists from the silver rope with which he'd been bound at the theater. "What does it matter? You left me, just like everyone leaves! Always, they leave!"

Guillermo takes a deep breath. "Do you know why I left?"

Nandor lets out a sob. "I should have been more aloof with you, you--"

"What?! No. No." Guillermo shakes his head in disbelief. "¡Dios mío! Nandor! Do you know what I've _done_ for you? How many vampires I _just_ \-- no. No. No, I'm not doing this. I'm done begging."

Nandor stops crying. "Begging?"

"Forget it, I--"

"What do you mean, begging! I took you off the streets--"

"-- _I_ found _you_ but sure--"

"--gave you a home--"

"I pay rent!"

"--and-- and-- treated you like my very own!"

"Your very own what, Nandor?"

Nandor stills, looks him in the eye. "A son."

Guillermo snorts. "Yeah. A son who polishes your boots, finds you victims, gets rid of their bodies, and cleans your cum off the coffin every time you fuck them before you kill them, yeah, that sounds real son-like."

They sit in silence for a moment. 

Guillermo clears his throat. "I left.... I left because of my feelings. And you obviously don't feel the same way, so, that's fine, whatever, but I can't-- I can't---"

"Feelings! What feelings! You never tell me you are having feelings!"

"Jesus Christ, Nandor--" Nandor hisses and pulls away- "-- _sorry_ , but, do you really not know? _Really?_ "

They meet each other's gaze. Nandor chews on his bottom lip for a moment, wipes the tear trails off his face with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you, but, it's not right that a familiar--"

"I'm not your familiar anymore."

Nandor's eyes widen. His bottom lip shakes and then he wails, sobbing into his hands. All of Guillermo's hard resolve, his promises to himself, turn to mush. He rubs Nandor's back and thinks.

"I could... I could be your... friend?" Guillermo attempts. Nandor raises his head, considers it for a moment, then pulls a grimace. "Alright, you know what," Guillermo stands and tries to move away but Nandor grabs his hand, viper-fast. "Fuck you, man." 

"What do I not know?" Nandor asks, his beard glistening with tears. 

"Oh, you could fill _books_ \--"

"No." Nandor shakes his head. "Before. You said, I did not know. Your feelings."

Guillermo can feel his pulse throb in Nandor's iron grip. Nandor is seated on the bed in front of where he stands, his face wet and distraught, staring up at him with shining eyes. 

Guillermo sighs and gives up. "I love you. Have for years. And I thought--" Nandor's grip spasms around his wrist-- "I thought, I'd take what I could get, and at the end maybe we'd be equals. But." He shrugs.

Nandor's face cycles through several emotions in quick succession, and then, suddenly, reaching a decision, he falls to his knees in front of Guillermo, still holding his wrist. He shuffles closer and pulls Guillermo's hand toward him, bringing Guillermo's knuckles to his lips and placing a feather-soft kiss there. He looks up at Guillermo and says: "I am the fool. I am humbled, and honored, to receive the affections of the great warrior Guillermo doola--" 

"--de la--"

"--de la Cruz. You have protected me for years and tempted me greatly with your sultry eyes and your slutty sweaters. It is only right that I, Nandor the Relentless, should have the most succulent and mighty of champions by _my_ side!" Nandor punctuates this by thumping his fist to his chest.

Guillermo gapes. "Did you.... did you just propose to me?"

"What?!" Nandor drops his hand. "No."

"Then you're turning me tonight?"

"No."

Guillermo rolls his eyes and steps away but finds the hem of his robe caught in Nandor's grasp. Nandor opens his mouth and then closes it. "You," he says, then tries again. "You are spent. You might not endure it tonight."

Guillermo thinks it over, realizes his shaking has returned now that Nandor has released his hand, and concedes with a shrug. He sits down on the edge of the bed heavily, and Nandor joins him. He can feel how hot his face is burning, the water building up in his eyes. He inhales deeply and holds the breath for a moment, then releases it with a shudder and a flood of tears running down his face. He takes off his glasses and scrubs at his eyes. Nandor puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls, leaning him against his sturdy bulk. 

"I've never been good at this sort of thing," Nandor says softly.

"No." Guillermo rubs at his eyes. "Me neither."

They sit in silence as Guillermo gets his breathing under control. 

"So--" Guillermo starts to say, but Nandor cuts him off.

"You need to rest. Your puny human muscles must be very tired. Come, I will put you to bed."

Nandor stands and offers his hand to Guillermo, who takes it and uses the leverage to pull himself to his feet. When Nandor's hands reach for the belt of his robe, he pulls away by reflex.

"Shy, Guillermo?" Nandor gives him a toothy smile and leans in, whispers. "No, such a mighty warrior need not be shy. How often have you done this for me?" Nandor's nimble fingers make quick work of the knot in the belt and then he slides the robe off Guillermo's shoulders, tossing it aside without care. Nandor moves to the bed and pulls back the blankets, smiling at Guillermo in anticipation.

The bed is the softest thing Guillermo has felt in ages, plush and clean-smelling, and he lets out a little groan as he lays down and feels his tense muscles relax. When the bed dips under Nandor's weight and his former master settles under the covers with him, pressing his body flush against Guillermo's back, Guillermo tenses up tight again, freezing in place.

"Uh-- Nandor?"

Nandor tucks his head on Guillermo's shoulder and pulls him tighter, flush along the entire length of his body. "Shush, now. I will protect you, as you have protected me. You should rest."

Guillermo _tries_. 

He closes his eyes and exhales the full capacity of his lungs and thinks about the soft bedding and the cool, dimly lit room; about the feeling of Nandor's strong arms around his body, about Nandor on his knees. He thinks about the unknown strength he'd drawn from in the theater, he thinks about how _powerful_ he felt protecting his stupid vampires, his friends. He thinks about the fact that Nandor has not rejected him, is, in fact, big-spooning him with a very obvious hardening erection against his ass.

He squirms, tries to re-focus. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep should be easy, right? He's worn out, sore and exhausted. But...

"I know," Nandor murmurs into his ear. "After a mighty battle, I could not rest either. Not until..." and Nandor's hand trails down, down, to the hem of Guillermo's boxerbriefs. Guillermo holds his breath. "Let me assist you." His lips move against Guillermo's neck, his bulk pressing against his back. "To the victor go the spoils. Yes?"

Guillermo can't deny he wants it, and is too exhausted to put up a fight he doesn't want to win. His body, sick with adrenaline, is keening for this. He nods silently, biting his lip and trying to breathe normally, to not sob at the first touch of his former master's long fingers against his rapidly filling cock. Nandor frees him from his underwear and squeezes, then releases him to spit into his own palm. When his hand returns, he begins to stroke in earnest, kissing Guillermo's neck as he does so.

"Do you know," Nandor whispers into his ear, "how I've _hungered_ to taste of you?" 

Guillermo exhales a breathy moan, louder than he'd meant to. Nandor tightens his grip around his chest and his grip on his cock, and drags his fangs carefully across the back of Guillermo's neck. Guillermo shudders, arching up into Nandor's slick grip. His former master shifts, grinding his massive erection against the curve of Guillermo's ass. 

"F-f- _fuck_ ," Guillermo gasps. Nandor changes his grip, twisting his wrist on every upstroke. Guillermo shakes in his arms, his hips stuttering, his body flushed red from his cheeks to his cock. Nandor sucks kisses onto his neck and shoulders, rocking them gently in rhythm with his stroking. 

He's so close. Caught between Nandor's arms and Nandor's cock, with his former master's lips and teeth on the sensitive bend of his throat, he can almost taste his orgasm, can feel it like a bright expansive heat building, building. If only Nandor would....

"Bite me," he breathes, hoarsely, barely more than a whisper. Nandor pulls off his assault on his neck with a smack of his lips. 

"No."

"Please." Nandor's lips return. He licks at Guillermo's throat, hums, and circles the head of his cock with his fingers on his next stroke. With his other hand he frees his cock from his trousers, smacking it against Guillermo's ass audibly. Guillermo jerks in his arms. " _Please,"_ Guillermo cries. "I _trust_ you." 

Nandor bares his teeth, drawing back his lips in a snarl and letting Guillermo feel the pin-prick pressure of his fangs against his vulnerable throat. 

"Master," Guillermo sobs. " _Master_."

Nandor bites. 

Shocked, Guillermo arches in Nandor's arms, his cock pulsing hard, shooting his release across his stomach and Nandor's knuckles. Nandor _sucks,_ the ecstasy overwhelming Guillermo, and he swoons, as he's seen victims do a thousand times before: the struggle, the sag, the complacency, the paralysis and utter calm that washes over him. Nandor swallows, and swallows, and swallows, as he grinds his hard cock against Guillermo's ass and then jerks, biting _deeper_ as he rubs himself to completion on his former familiar's plump ass. Nandor's cum paints Guillermo's ass and lower back as Nandor grunts with each hard press of his hips against Guillermo.

He snarls as he pulls off Guillermo's neck, laving the open wounds with his tongue until the blood flow slows. 

"Guillermo," he sighs. " _My_ Guillermo. Rest, and we will face tomorrow as victors, together."

Guillermo snorts. He feels held, heavy, sated, protected, sore. 

He sleeps.


End file.
